Random Writings of Depression

Monday, June 04, 2012

Today wasn’t much different than the days before. The only difference is that I didn’t buy a rope. One might even find it interesting that I put away all of my suicide preparation kit.



SO……. I ain’t normal

I was Born in the eighties

But the nineties made me

From ten to twenty I grew

I can’t even explain the shit I went thru


Teen pregnancy-first of the trend

Abortion-the pressure of society

Abandonments afforded me the injury needed

To write letters to myself in coded language

My suicidal idealizations were born with me

Sent here to destroy me

A Year ago it caught me unprepared

No letters fashionably written as if suicide could be justified

I suppose I didn’t want to talk myself out of it

Give myself any argument to stay with this struggle

Miles high in the sky


Don’t call mom and ruin her weekend

The pharmaceutical industry pushed the limits of sanity

Merely enticing fantasies of death

As I swallowed unaware that my fate was again, put off

I should have known better to expect my curtain call then

Rejected again by the creator

forced to continue on this existence

As if life hadn’t taught me enough pain to learn

To learn forgiveness over love

It is my rebirth

If it is in the numbers

That I am but a seven

A seeker of wisdom and of truth

Than I ain’t normal like you

Logic escapes reality


Learn Forgiveness Over Love




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I write it all down-

Like –hey

This shit’s important

Sylvia Plath was my grow up to be like person.

Documenting my pain and suffering is my life’s work

In hopes it can be deciphered and organized into something important.

Like Sylvia Plath.


My thoughts race, I get excited to reach the keyboard to get them down, yet- they stop.

Life life life.. again why I write more frequently, talking to my own personal god- looking for answers.

Write a book. I guess I am scared not many people would buy it. Just now though I questioned myself why. Why would someone not buy it? The world doesn’t hate me. The world doesn’t know me. If I write the book, they will know me but I don’t even have to be me. Who am I anyways? As if anyone could describe me in the five words I describe of myself.








I can’t argue with this collectiveness of terms. When I put all these pieces together for what they meant to me as a being of light here on earth, I felt defined. I no longer need to question the reasons why as they are given to me. The mystery remains in how I play the game of life as this character. The past should be a distant memory as the future is all there is to advance, making progress for when I am ascended. Once I go higher. Someday.


I can’t even seem to define life at this point. It is not even 24 hours after I was depressed, suicidal. Now I have some energy. Perhaps because he didn’t go away. Silly.


It’s the week after daylight savings, 6:59p.m. and still light out. Spring is finally coming. The sky still blue from where I am looking.




Stir crazy. Everything has been dead and dark for days upon days now. Of late it has becoming increasingly lighter and lighter later on. The pressure of being wanted to commit to hours of television-my mind controlled by flickering images.


Things have changed. They always do. As do the seasons, there is a system of ups and downs.


The distance admits the failure

Of the times we had prior to the days

That changed when


I don’t want to think about “dinner” one decision makes two and three…..

If it’s not forever why would I want it


If it’s not for forever, it is only a temporary fix to serve the need for desire engrained upon the roots of our essence having it be essential to be together with another soul.


Finding forever was flawed

Forbids me to forget

This is all forged emotions

Without a fixed future



I like it.

Sitting. Thinking.


No pressures.

Abandoned drink.

Sunny skies.

Noisy crickets.

Alert lizard.

Hiding cat.

Clicking keys.

Thinking thoughts.




I don’t want to plan. At all. Not today. Not right now. I just want to sit. Here. And think. Or stand. Or walk around. I just want to wander this tiny place and enjoy the trinkets. I want to contribute life essence to this air.


I hate crickets.

I don’t want to waste my night watching television, quite yet. That should be an end of the night activity. A commitment to staying in for the night.



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